Dark Side
by Blue Sailor
Summary: Tag to 10.21 Dark Dynasty. Charlie's thoughts leading up her flight from the brewery.


**NOTE:** Heavily influenced by MisplacedLonelyHeartsAd's "Hark." Also many thanks to the amazing RiverSongTam for her help on this story.

* * *

 _I read you the second I saw you. You're clear as a book to me, darling._

I can't stop hearing her voice. Even when she's not speaking, her words grow and multiply in my head like some virulent bacteria. I glare down at my computer screen, trying to ignore her. If only this damn Book of the Damned were as easy to read as I apparently am. If only I could just crack it, so I can get out of here, away from her.

 _Don't you agree there are strange likenesses between us?_

There were strange likenesses between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, too, but it doesn't mean they were the same. So what if we've both experienced tragedy and lonely childhoods? So what if we're both outside the mainstream? So what if we even look something alike? I'm not the same as her.

 _You and I are the same, dearie, as similar as Dean and Cain. And you've seen what happened there. Dean tried to ignore it, then fight it. Then he embraced it. And so will you. So you have done._

If I learned anything in Oz, it's that no one can be split neatly into good and bad. There's no line of morality running through me, along which I can cut to rid myself of darkness. When I cut Dark Charlie away, I felt her absence as though I'd severed a limb. And even then, a piece of her was still left behind, tangled so deep in my nerves, my organs, no amount of surgery could ever remove it. At least, no surgery I would survive.

And being good was annoying. I mean, I was worse than Little Nell. So yeah, when it was time to bring Dark Charlie back, I welcomed her. But just because I've embraced my dark side doesn't mean I have to listen to it. I have a choice, just like Harry Potter. Like Frodo Baggins. Like Batman. And Dean does too.

Dean and me, we're going to make the right choice.

 _Why resist? Why now, when you've been giving in all your life? I know how it was, because it was the same for me. Using your skills to survive at first, then to protect yourself. But somewhere along the line it became less about protection and more about power. Have you never used those skills for your own gain at the expense of others? Please._

 _I promise, darling, you'll hardly even notice a change._

I'd notice it. I'd notice the change in the way Sam and Dean look at me. To see Dean frown, to see his eyes harden, to see Sam shake his head and turn away-I'd notice that. And I'd step off whatever path was taking me away from them.

Wouldn't I?

 _Well, there's something you and I don't share. It's foolish, this blind devotion to those Winchesters._

She and I aren't the same, because she doesn't understand family. Sam and Dean keep me _me_. They keep me human. And I do the same for them.

 _That steadfast loyalty will be your undoing, my girl._

If I could only concentrate, if I could just stop hearing her. I swear she spends as much time staring at me as she spends staring at the Book. She's stopped her chattering now, but even her silence is loud; her very presence is a constant jarring jangle. I need peace. I need quiet. I need Cas to lock her away so I can't see her anymore, can't hear her.

I need to get out of here.

 _Are you going to run, dearie? That's what I used to do, too. I ran out on my lover, on my own son. Just like you, disappeared without a trace._

 _If you join me, you won't have to run anymore._

Joining her would be like joining the Death Eaters. Joining Sauron. I wouldn't have to run, because everyone would be running from me.

Cas glances over his shoulder at me as the door closes behind him and Rowena. Is that an accusing look on his face? Does he know what I'm considering-escaping from the bad guys by becoming a bad guy?

I could do it, if I wanted to.

I can feel a stirring deep down in my gut, down in those secret places that will never be illuminated by any light, never reached by any scalpel. Another voice in the conversation. It's one that's been there all along, long before Rowena.

We're cracking the Book of the Damned. We're already a bad guy. We've already joined her.

I'm doing this for Dean. For Dean.

But we think it's kinda fun, too.

 _Oh, you and I could have lots of fun, darling. If you joined me._

When Dark Charlie moves, she uses my body. Her thoughts form in my mind, her words fall from my mouth. She reaches out for Rowena, and and I feel myself pulled along with her, like the caboose at the end of a train. And, worse, I can feel her desire, her craving for that corrosive contact. A fatal bonding, like oxygen and iron.

They're getting along entirely too well. The only thing I can do is separate them.

I end up in a motel, with only my computer for company. It's mercifully quiet. Or at least, the only voices here are mine. Now that I'm alone, the Book cracks like an egg under my fingers. I always knew I was a genius.

Dark Charlie laughs at that, her smile breaking out over my face.

Think what we could do with this Book. So much more than removing an evil tattoo.

I don't get time to wonder exactly how much more, because next second someone is pounding on the door, and if I forgot that I wasn't the only one who's interested in the Book, I'm reminded now. And then the only thought in my head is that Stein-it has to be one of them-is covering the door, and I have no way out, nowhere to go. I'm as trapped as Han and Leia in Cloud City. And my one Jedi friend doesn't know where I am.

We could give him the computer. The notes. The coda. Maybe he won't kill us if he gets what he wants.

I can't do that. Dean needs these notes.

 _This blind devotion…._

Rowena doesn't understand me as well as she thinks. I'm not blind. I know exactly what I'm doing.

I scramble into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. It'll be little more than a stumbling block to Stein; I can already hear him crashing through the front door. But I just need time to send one email.

… _.that steadfast loyalty…._

Dean needs the coda more than I need to get out of here alive. The choice is simple, really.

I hope Sam takes care of that brother of his. Of mine.

… _.will be your undoing._

I know you think you've won, but you haven't, despite all your whisperings and sympathies and seductions. I choose love. I choose family. I choose Dean over you, and in saving him I save myself.

You and I are not the same. You wouldn't make this choice, the right choice, even if you had someone for whom to make it, or someone to make it for you.

This will not be my undoing.

It will be yours.


End file.
